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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28963041">love you, but it's killing me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandering_clouds/pseuds/wandering_clouds'>wandering_clouds</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Blood and Injury, Cyberpunk, Declarations Of Love, Dystopia, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:42:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,977</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28963041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandering_clouds/pseuds/wandering_clouds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In an existence that balances on the brink of death at every single moment, is love worth it or a risk too dangerous to take? Else as close as can be, this is a question Jungwoo and Sicheng have never been able to agree on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Kim Jungwoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Challenge #4 — Awaken The World</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>love you, but it's killing me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>cw, tw // blood</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rain pours down, losing itself in the pitch black darkness of the empty streets of Neo Seoul’s ghetto. The apartment blocks are unnaturally hollow, sucked empty of all life except for a few straying souls that have gathered for collective hiding. </p><p>It’s a district of ruins, just inhumane enough to allow space for the rats of society to settle. Those with nowhere else to go, the last resistance against the world order that humanity was coerced into for alleged “rescue.” </p><p>Few neon lights shimmer through the gaps of former windows and door frames, illuminating the wet pavement. And in the midst of it all, a single pair of steps echoes across the beton, leaving behind a trail of blood to mix with the rain water and oil that streams down the street.</p><p>With every step, his feet get heavier. The pain from his wound pulses through him in waves, each one more unbearable than the next. And, in spite of his young age, he’s unable to be carried by his body any longer. </p><p>Finally, his legs give away under his weight.</p><p>As his body writhes on the wet ground, tears escape his eyes from frustration. </p><p>In the far distance, the skyscrapers rise up to the stars, overtowering the ghetto with their intimidating height. And while, up there, vehicles race through the air setting the city alight in blinding blues, his distress in the darkness is hidden from any human eye. </p><p>Once again he’s left at the bottom, cries silent to the careless crowd at the top.</p><p>
  <i>Home. I just need to make it home.</i>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“What do you mean you don’t know where he is? You know we’re always supposed to stay with at least one other person— You were supposed to keep each other safe, Taeil!”</p><p>Sicheng tugs at his hair anxiously. Just as the hours seem to blend into one another, making him lose any grasp on time— how long has it been since it was morning and he wished Jungwoo goodbye? Has it been hours? Minutes?— his emotions seem to merge, toppling over him with an incomprehensible force.</p><p>No thought seems to make sense with the empty space by his side that should be filled with a person— Jungwoo - the weight that binds Sicheng to the ground, who keeps him just heavy enough to not have his thoughts slip away, because there’s so many of them, he’s unable to take hold of even just one.</p><p>Jungwoo’s touch lingers where he gripped Sicheng’s hand in the morning. The words “Stay safe, be careful,” leave bitter traces on his tongue.</p><p>It’s always difficult to let him leave, even though- or maybe above all— because Jungwoo’s the one person that’s been with Sicheng the longest. Joined at the hip ever since they met, together to lessen the darkness of existence for each other by a half.</p><p>Sicheng knows, in a world like this, it’s rare to find a person you can trust—  and once you find them, you have to hold onto them as tight as you can. Every corner hides a risk, every goodbye carries potential finality with it. </p><p>And yet, such irony, is Sicheng the one of the two who closes himself off, so caged in by his fear of losing the people that are dear to him that he doesn’t open up. As if it would suffice to build walls around himself when his heart still always manages to bleed through. As if resigning himself from acting out on connections, on love, would stop him from feeling at all, as if it could stop the death that is eating up the streets from knocking at their door.</p><p>And, as he always has been, Jungwoo is the one who’s loud. Loud in speaking, loud in thinking, loud in confessing his love and allowing it to run out of his control. He speaks when Sicheng stays quiet, leaves when Sicheng stays, is brave against his fear, embodies the complete opposite of Sicheng and still manages to reassure him that they’re going through the world as one. </p><p>“We complete one another, I run ahead blindly and you follow behind with the sight,” Jungwoo had once said. </p><p>Sicheng thinks it’s he who’s blind, Jungwoo doesn’t seem to be sightless at all. </p><p>At the end of every evening, as the sun gently kisses the horizon and melts away, the two of them will find themselves by each other’s side, <i>that</i> Jungwoo has assured him. Sicheng has always been able to rely on him— yet, for the last hours— he’s been walking around in circles through their apartment, waiting for some kind of sign— anything that suggests that Jungwoo is alright.</p><p>He watches, frightened, as the day turns to night and makes a decision.</p><p>“We have to go out and look for him, Taeil, if–” he turns around to his friend and his voice breaks, “if anything happened to him I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” </p><p>His hands curl into fists, nails painfully digging into his skin, keeping him  present.</p><p>They both know they shouldn’t. Too dangerous is the stay in the city for people like them– but, seeing the desperation in Sicheng’s eyes, Taeil nods curtly and grabs his jacket from the floor.</p><p>As they step out into the night, Sicheng tries not to think about what must have happened to keep Jungwoo from coming home. He feels Taeil press closer to his side and gently take his hand in reassurance. Heavy with worry, they start on their journey under the starless sky.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Sicheng was nine, his parents took him to Neo Seoul and he saw a Cyborg for the first time. </p><p>“They’re human just like you and me,” his mother had said, “you see, when one gets incurably hurt they can rely on technology to save them, to give their mind a second chance to live in a new body– isn’t that amazing?”</p><p>Sicheng had stared in awe and nodded, amazed by the people carrying shining arms and legs, or even looking alike to Androids in their entirety. </p><p>Then, he remembers, his father had scoffed. </p><p>“Immortality is a narcissistic illusion. One only available to the rich too, just another segregation towards the poor. Humankind has always been ambitious in destructive ways, if this is the start– I don’t want to know what the end will look like.”</p><p>The words of his father were too big for him to understand, but memorable enough to stay in Sicheng’s mind as a reminder of the quiet before the storm.</p><p> </p><p>Just a few months later, wherever he went, screens would show a representative of the head of state announcing the distribution of the chips— SI’s, safety identifications.</p><p>The “modern ID”, they were called. Praised as a key to safety and practicability.</p><p>“Be free in travelling to wherever you want and move through life with the security of being in safely monitored spaces”, was one of the main advertisements slogans.</p><p>At home, his father's face grew darker, tense conversations were had in hushed voices, and even his mother now seemed filled with worry.</p><p>Sicheng may not have understood everything going on yet, but it was causing his parents to be upset, and he could feel danger was approaching that they didn't want to comply with.</p><p> </p><p>At eleven years old, his family would go into hiding— one could delay the acceptance of their SI only for so long without consequences, so they fled before their decisions could catch up with them.</p><p> </p><p>Then he turned twelve, and like every day he was waiting for his parents to return— but different to every afternoon before that, they wouldn’t. </p><p>And Sicheng didn’t know why they had gotten dragged away, as they had done no more than striving for free will– but he did know that he had never felt such pain before as the one that is caused by the pressure of heavy emptiness left in an empty room that is meant to be filled with people.</p><p>From that point on, he swore to never let someone into his heart again, as to not risk its shell collapsing once they disappear.</p><p> </p><p>At thirteen years old, Sicheng met Jungwoo— and thirteen marked the beginning of Sicheng unwillingly; unknowingly, breaking his very own promise— as each mind holds free will, but no will is so free that it can hold control over a heart.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Jungwoo winces in agony as he presses the balled up fabric of his t-shirt against his side. He’s tired, eyelids heavy and bones aching, but he fights against the promises sleep whispers into his ears, knows he can’t slip away if he wants to keep any slim chance of survival.</p><p>He’s run for too long, has lost too much blood— and he’s scared, incredibly so. </p><p>More than anything, he loves life, loves the feeling of air on his face, heat and cold on his fingers, the simple act of breathing. There's still so much he strives for-- like kissing Sicheng, Jungwoo thinks, and the corner of his mouth lifts at the thought of his best friend, then he groans, even that simple movement leaves him in pain.</p><p>Pressed against the wet ground with rain drops hitting his skin like a thousand little pinpricks, it gets freezing cold, yet thinking of Sicheng gives him just a bit of warmth. </p><p>He wonders if he’s worrying, hopes he’s not but knows he likely is— If only he could have Sicheng hold his hand so that, if he slipped away, he would have an anchor to hold on to.</p><p>With sluggish movements, he traces the characters of Sicheng’s name into the soil and smiles to himself sadly. He had probably been naive and overestimated his own strengths, never considering the possibility of getting himself incurably hurt.</p><p>He and Taeil had meant to attend a riot but carelessly lost each other in the crowd, and as they had always been warned, it was detrimental. </p><p>No partner to alert him, Jungwoo had learned too late about the appearance of the armed troops, running right into their arms.</p><p>Even with his thorough knowledge of the heart of the city and all it’s escape routes, he couldn’t get away without taking any hits, one bullet had brushed past him, the second striked right into his side. He was lucky he had made it as far as their district at all.</p><p>If only he could’ve made it a little bit further, just up to their apartment. The street is too dark and his consciousness too close to fading, but he knows it must not be far.</p><p>Thinking of his home and the warmth that awaits him there fills him with longing and desperation. And, as much as he wants to be strong, a sob escapes his lips— he knows his fate already, can feel it coming, but he doesn’t want to die. Not out on the streets by himself, not without seeing Sicheng’s face again.</p><p>He just needs to hold on for a little bit longer.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Sicheng had been prepared to search for Jungwoo all night if necessary, he isn’t prepared for what they are faced with just five blocks from their apartment.</p><p>It’s completely dark, nothing leading their way, except for a tiny inconspicuous light, but the moment they turn around the corner, Sicheng’s eyes fall on a dark silhouette he knows.</p><p>Everything goes quickly then. In a matter of seconds, Sicheng is overcome by nausea and his knees buckle under him, causing him to stumble, but he keeps running, rushes to Jungwoo who’s laying on the ground, so weak he doesn’t even notice his presence.</p><p>Sicheng falls to his knees harshly, getting his legs wet and dirty in the process, but he doesn’t notice, doesn’t feel or think, acts out of pure desperation. </p><p>His trembling hands reach for Jungwoo’s face, holding onto his cheeks and turning it into his direction. It is colder than it has ever been, skin as white as a sheet of paper and neck feeling entirely limp— lifeless. There’s a big stain of blood on Jungwoo’s side, t-shirt riding up to expose a wound Sicheng can’t bear to look at. </p><p>Panicking, he averts his eyes from where the blood is pooling on the ground and focuses back on Jungwoo’s face, moving it onto his lap and slapping his cheeks in hopes it would wake him.</p><p>As Taeil kneels down next to him and takes of his jacket to compress Jungwoo’s wound, Sicheng gets disoriented by loud cries - there’s tear drops falling onto his hands and Jungwoo’s chin, and he realises it is him who is screaming in unbearable agony, sobbing over Jungwoo’s body as he cradles him close.</p><p>“Sicheng” Taeil murmurs quietly but set, as if not to startle him, “he still has a pulse, we have to get him home now if we want to help him.”</p><p>Sicheng’s heart drops, “Home?!” he asks incredulously, “what about the hospital?”. The look on Taeil’s face is filled with pity and he looks away, visibly uneasy, “You know we can’t. It’s too dangerous for us.”</p><p>Yes. Of course. Sicheng knows— they’ll be immediately recognised by their lack of SI’s and bring not only themselves but everyone else in danger. </p><p>But, selfishly, Sicheng doesn’t care. For Jungwoo, he would risk his own safety without hesitating.</p><p> “We don’t know if there’s a legitimate chance of saving him, it’s not worth it.” Taeil says, reading through him. His expression doesn’t leave any room for discussion.</p><p>Quietly, they lift up Jungwoo in the most gentle way possible. Sicheng swallows and starts walking.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It’s only once they’re home and have Jungwoo propped against the wall on a mattress and bandaged, that reality sets in.</p><p>Sicheng can’t move from Jugwoo’s side. Tears keep falling down his face without stopping, leaving him with a stifling headache.</p><p>He doesn’t cry easily, prefers hiding his emotions behind a mask— but, as with everything, Jungwoo is the one part of Sicheng’s life that entirely differs. </p><p>Suddenly Sicheng feels Jungwoo’s thumb twitching in his hand– caught off guard he looks up to see Jungwoo’s eyelids fluttering, and his chest constricts with suffocating hope.</p><p>“Jungwoo!” he gasps, frantically looking around to look for Taeil only to realise he’s by himself. </p><p>Desperately he squeezes his hand, and, like an answer to his prayers, the pair of eyes, that are more a home to him than any place could be, look back at him. They’re glossed over, far away as if Jungwoo is already half a foot in another place, yet with a weak voice he manages to speak. </p><p>“You’ve brought me home.”</p><p>Sicheng manages a quick nod, before the relief once more opens the dam and leaves him to cry.</p><p>Jungwoo lifts his arm with a groan, visibly strained but determined to place his hand on Sicheng’s face and wipe his tears away, only to spread the wetness more across his skin.</p><p>He manages to form a weak grin, and softly brushes his finger along Sicheng’s chin, “You’ve gotten more handsome lately. The beard looks good on you.”</p><p>Sicheng laughs, then hiccups from swallowing down a sob. “I can’t believe you’re talking about my awful stubble right now, idiot.” He sniffles, “how are you?”</p><p>Jungwoo’s smile wavers, colored in regret. He squeezes Sicheng’s hand a little tighter, “If anyone is an idiot it’s you– but you’re also the prettiest man I know, so it balances each other out.” A cough pushes out of his throat, leaving him to curl up in himself. There’s blood on his tongue, falling from his lips and staining the bedsheets.</p><p>Pain overcomes Sicheng watching him suffer, as if he was caught in his body himself, and he pushes his hands against Jungwoo’s shoulders, trying to keep him from falling apart.</p><p>Jungwoo lifts his head again, and with sincerity mutters, “I feel weak but I’m fine as long you’re here with me.”</p><p>His voice is hoarse, his skin pale, his body screams like a glass about to shatter— a cloud of smoke halfway to dissolving.</p><p>Sicheng’s lips clamp closed, as if refusing to say the words, but he moves to speak. “You’re dying,” he exhales slowly, then pleads “We need a doctor.”</p><p>Jungwoo looks back at him in silence, and Sicheng knows he won’t agree. “I am and I will. You know there is no way-” he clears his throat, “I won’t risk your safety for mine— not even if you demand me to.”</p><p>Sicheng’s voice breaks, “But why? Why are you so willing to leave me?” He cries out and his body trembles, their hands slipping apart. Jungwoo turns away, avoiding his gaze, but the tears glistening in his eyes can’t be hidden. Inwardly, Sicheng breaks. </p><p>It’s over, he knows it is. </p><p>There’s an unspoken farewell that can’t be retracted, a decision to settle with fate that lays in Jungwoo’s hands alone. Sicheng is powerless to do anything but watch.</p><p>He sobs miserably, face hidden in the palms of his hands.</p><p>He longs to flare up with anger and frustration at Jungwoo for giving up, for deciding what’s best for Sicheng against his own will— because what worth has his own safety if it’s bound to him going through existence alone? The answer is none— but he knows that’s not how he wants them to part.</p><p>“Sicheng.” Jungwoo whispers, “Dong Sicheng”. </p><p>Sicheng lets his hands fall from his face and Jungwoo searches for them on the blanket to take them lovingly in his.</p><p>“I love you, do you know that?” he says, causing Sicheng to sputter. “I’ve loved you for more than a decade.”</p><p>Slowly he pulls Sicheng’s hand towards his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his fingers. Then he smiles, his arm weakens and drops.</p><p>They’ve always disagreed when it comes to love -  Jungwoo one to celebrate it, Sicheng judging it as too big a risk to take. </p><p>Sicheng realises he’s been wrong all along.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it ♡ kudos and comments are much appreciated, I'd love to hear your thoughts! </p><p>In the meantime I'll be manifesting a future in which the winwoo tag isn't as dead as jungwoo in this story (sorry)</p><p>to the alw mods, my beta mads <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/johlyfams">johlyfams</a> &amp; friends ily very much.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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